Five Card Stud, Jacks Wild
by ALC Punk
Summary: Daybreakverse, post-Revelations. Drunk pilots having a relaxing little card game that ends in ridiculousness. Implied sex, Kara Thrace/Sam Anders, Athena/Helo referenced.


disclaimer: not mine.  
rating: PG13, language, adult situations  
pairings: Starbuck/Longshot, Athena/Helo (referenced)  
spoilers: through Revelations  
length: 1000+  
notes: sorta . (Daybreak-verse), random assorted cast. This is sort of two scenes smushed into a story. Because I'm tired of not having anything to post. (I go to bed now) (title is totally pulled out of nowhere) 

**Five Card Stud, Jacks Wild**  
_by ALC Punk_

"I got a pair o' drunken Eights," Sam slurred.

Across the table from him, Maggie raised an eyebrow, "Shit, Longshot, you're lucky they're not here to shoot you--"

"He'd just come back," pointed out Gaeta, down from the Galactica for a resupply mission and roped into a game of triad he was steadily winning. He gave Longshot an extra dark glare, but didn't offer to do the shooting himself.

Ignoring the undercurrents at the table, Outlaw tossed down another chip, "I call, unless you frakkers are too busy with your little squabbles."

"Longshot's folding," drawled Starbuck as she joined them, leaning over his shoulder and grabbing the cards before he could object. "Sam, your hand is shit, why are you wasting my hard-earned cash?"

"Not wastin' it," he objected, turning and twisting, shoving his chair back and being dexterous enough to swing her down into his lap.

"Great. Free porn show," said Maggie, spreading her cards and reaching for the cigar Longshot had abandoned.

"Do they ever get a room? Wait, it's Starbuck," Gaeta answered his own question with an eye-roll, "Of course they don't. You guys got a video camera? We could make a good profit off of them."

Smirking a little, Racetrack raked in the pot, Outlaw having grumbled and lost. "Someone already did, the way I hear it."

"Starbuck and Longshot is a pretty hot commodity, in some circles," said Dee, her tone dry as she tossed a chip into the pot and claimed the chair next to Gaeta. "Apparently, it's pretty frakkin' humorous."

"Your deal," Outlaw slapped the cards in front of Gaeta.

"Can we talk about something that isn't porn?" demanded Racetrack, "I haven't gotten a good frak since--"

"Kobol?"

"Caprica?"

"Picon," was Starbuck's retort, and she slewed sideways on Sam's lap to smirk, "There was that pretty blonde lieutenant with the killer smile, Maggie. Remember?"

"I seem to recall you punched her date, actually," Maggie rejoined sweetly, "Did you enjoy your stay in hack that night?"

Gaeta groaned, "If this is turning into ancient story time, I'm out."

"You've just lost your taste for giving me all your money," Outlaw told him cheerfully.

Maggie elbowed her, "Hey, I got his last stack of chips."

"Semantics."

"Why do I play triad with pilots?" Gaeta asked, as though someone could give him the answer. He wasn't whining, though, his eyes bright and clear with an inner amusement.

"Because we're hot," suggested Longshot.

The others, even Starbuck, eyed him. "Starbuck, I think you better take Mr. Intelligent home," suggested Racetrack.

"She said I'm intelligent!" Sam gave Kara an incredibly goofy grin.

The others snickered or laughed, as their habits dictated. Starbuck sighed, "Hate to blow this party, because I needed to win Dee's cubits, but charity work calls."

It was a little impressive, watching her pry Longshot up from his chair and then keep him on his feet. They stumbled away from the table, meandered their way between the other tables and then out the door and into the night. All without falling over.

"Five cubits they don't make it back to quarters."

Maggie shook her head, "Never bet on a sure thing. Now would you frakkin' deal, Sparky?"

With a roll of his eyes, Gaeta expertly shuffled, had Dee cut and then dealt, detailing the rules and layout of the current hand. They'd all taken to calling him Sparky after a fanatic had nearly blown him up (the stupid idiot had gotten half the communications center and killed himself in the process), and set his hair on fire. Luckily for him, Punchline had been nearby and quickly dumped the nearest bucket of standing water over his head.

Of course, that had left him a little algae-covered, but he hadn't really complained.

The game continued, with Outlaw and Racetrack cleaning out Dee and Gaeta, trading stories about life on Earth for life in space, and attracting a large crowd to watch Outlaw take Racetrack down in the last hand. The civvies weren't impressed, but any other pilots on-hand cheered and jeered.

* * *

Starbuck and Longshot were halfway back to quarters when he bumped her hip with his and started laughing. "Think anyone had a bet going?"

"Ass," she suggested, looking up to find him looking far more sober than he'd seemed.

His lips stretched into a teasing grin. "Got a problem with that?"

Kara narrowed her eyes at him, "D'no." Obviously, he'd exaggerated how drunk he was in order to lure her away from the triad table. She had half a mind to abandon his stupid ass in the cold air and go back. "This a special Cylon trick, Sammy?"

A laugh escaped him. "What, sneaking out to have sex with my wife?"

"Who says you're having sex?"

"Aw, baby," he released her and stepped away, grinning cheerfully, "If you don't wanna frak me, guess I'll have to just go use some of the lube on my own."

So the baby was fair payback for calling him Sammy. Kara still glared a little harder, "I could just kick your ass and put you on the next flight shift in three hours."

"If you do that, you go back to a cold bed," Sam pointed out.

His logic was pretty compelling. Kara snorted, "So? I'll just grab a pilot to snuggle with. Unless you object."

"Are Cylons allowed to object?" Retorted Sam, his expression shifting a little.

Maybe he was still a little sore and touchy about being a Cylon. Kara made a face at him. Gods, she was beginning to hate this bullshit, "You are such an ass."

"You married me," he pointed out.

"I never said I was smart." She started snickering, "Wanna bet they think we're already frakking in the mud?"

"They probably didn't even bet--'Track says it's a sure thing."

"Mmph." Kara shoved at him and then wrapped her arm around his waist again, starting them walking. "It's cold, Sam."

"Yeah?"

"But maybe we should be abstinent, for once. You know. Prove we can do it."

He was silent for a moment, then asked, "You got a bet with someone?"

"Nope."

"Wasted opportunity, then. And who's going to keep your ass warm?"

"I said no sex, I didn't say no sleeping together."

"Ahhh."

They were silent until they reached the barracks with its attached annex containing enough individual rooms for the few couples (Helo and Athena had their own cabin down the block) who were sharing bed space. Kara shoved him in the door, "Changed my mind."

Sam yanked open their door and pulled her in, pressing her up against the door after he'd shut it. "Oh, yeah?"

In the darkness, Kara couldn't see the smirk on his face, but she knew it was there, "Don't be smug, you frakker, I need to get laid before tomorrow. Remember the new schedule I had to cut?"

"Mhmm." His hands pulled her tanks up, "We gotta store up. For a whole week."

"Poor us--" Kara swore as she slammed her elbow into the door negotiating getting his pants open.

"Kiss it, make it better," he mumbled, grabbing her waist and turning them before he dropped to his knees and kissed her belly.

"You'd better," she growled.

-f-


End file.
